


Where They Needed To Be

by redleavesinthewind (EmmaBryonyFox)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Case Fic, Established Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester, F/F, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Kaia Nieves/Claire Novak, Post-Canon, Time Travel, and there was only one bed but different, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-18 10:34:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29488377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmmaBryonyFox/pseuds/redleavesinthewind
Summary: Dean did not plan on spending Valentine’s Day being sent through time by some weird compass they didn’t know anything about. But oh well, maybe something good will come off it.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester, Kaia Nieves/Claire Novak
Comments: 10
Kudos: 77





	Where They Needed To Be

**Author's Note:**

> For sbthursday as part of a Valentine’s Day fic exchange
> 
> For context: they defeated Chuck, Jack still lives at the bunker and has given up his godpowers and is “only” a nephilim. Cas never made a deal with the Empty and so the confession never happened. 
> 
> When you said Time Travel, I was like YAY! But then you said pretend boyfriends and I was like but the homophobia? Don’t worry though, there’s basically no homophobia in here. Also it’s not really pretend boyfriends, but there’s something similar, so I just hope you like what I did with it...
> 
> (Also I didn’t have time to do actual research for this, so...)

Dean only noticed it was Valentine’s Day when Eileen showed up and dragged Sam away on a date. It wasn’t because they were going on a date, they were doing that a lot, it was because they seemed more _nervous_ about it than usual. And then Jack showed up, smiled at the couple and wished them a happy Valentine’s Day. Dean just stared. Then he checked his phone. February 14th. Valentine’s Day. Not that he cared. Not that he had someone to spend the day with. It was basically over anyway. But _still_. There was _the thought_ nagging at the back of his mind. _The thought_ he pushed back down as soon as it tried to emerge. Because he couldn’t. Couldn’t entertain it. What he _could_ do was get a couple of beers and make Cas watch a movie with him. Spending Valentine’s Day with his best friend was better than spending Valentine’s Day alone. Especially if said best friend was… no, no, pushing down _the thought_.

When Dean entered the kitchen, he was still wondering how he’d missed the fact that it was Valentine’s Day. He should have realised it earlier. Claire and Kaia were here, researching for a hunt, on their own, because “I don’t need help hunting, Dean, I’m not a baby” was the first thing that came out of Claire’s mouth when he so much as approached the table they had spread their books all over. Dean had raised his hands in surrender and backed away, leaving the girls to it. And every time he’d checked on them during the day, they’d either been buried in old tomes, all cuddled up on the armchair together, or they’d been making out. Dean just hoped their hunt wasn’t too urgent. Because there’d been more making out than reading. And that should have been a hint, probably. Because while Claire and Kaia _were_ a clingy couple, they weren’t _that_ clingy. So that’s when he should have realised.

Or probably when Jack came in and gave every single person present in the bunker an orange rose without any kind of explanation. But that was Jack. Dean rarely knew why Jack was doing the things he was doing. He’d just taken the rose, which had made Jack’s face light up with the brightest smile, but before Dean could have asked, the kid had moved on, searching for Cas to give him his rose. Both Dean’s and Cas’ roses were now in a glass tall enough to pass as a vase, standing on the kitchen table. Dean tried not to think about that too much. But now that he knew that it was Valentine’s Day, _the thought_ was more persistent than it normally was. Dean pulled his gaze away from the roses, taking two beers out of the fridge.

“Do you know where Cas is?” He asked Jack, who sat at the table, eating a bowl of those cookie crunch cereals Sam didn’t want the kid to eat too many of. Of course he was taking advantage of Sam being out tonight. Dean didn’t really _get_ why Sam didn’t want Jack to eat those. Health didn’t exactly work the same for nephilim than it did for humans.

“I think he was looking for something in the storage room, but I’m not sure he’s still there.” Jack frowned, halting the spoon halfway from the bowl to his mouth. Then he asked. “Do you think I should get Eileen a rose, too?”

Dean stopped in his tracks on his way out of the kitchen and turned back to Jack. “Kid, what do you think Valentine’s Day is?” He asked, realising that Jack probably had no idea what handing out roses on Valentine’s Day actually meant. The kid was only three years old. Dean wasn’t sure how Jack had figured out that today was a holiday in the first place, it wasn’t as if they were talking about it, or even acknowledging it. There’d never really been a reason to. Not before Eileen. But now Sam was on a date, and Dean was standing in the doorway to the kitchen, two beers in hand, on his way to look for his best friend (push _the thought_ down, push it down), and probably had to explain to Jack what Valentine’s Day was first. Great.

“When Claire told me not to disturb her and Kaia because it was Valentine’s Day, I asked Cas what that meant, and he told me Valentine’s Day is a day to show the people we love how much we appreciate them, usually by exchanging flowers or chocolate.” Jack recited as if he was a student, standing in front of the class, waiting for the teacher’s approval. For a second, Dean just stared. Part of him was incredibly flattered, having received a rose, knowing that Jack appreciated him. He’d known that, but actually hearing it from Jack, seeing the proof standing in a glass on the kitchen table, it made his brain short circuit for a second. He didn’t know why, didn’t know what it was about this day, but something was just off. And Jack wasn’t wrong. There was just a piece of information missing.

“Sure, but… it’s about romantic love, kiddo. You give the person you’re in love with roses.”

Now Jack frowned again, inclining his head. “When do I give you guys roses then?”

Dean didn’t know if he should sigh exasperatedly or laugh, so he lifted one hand to rub his face and kind of did a mix of the two. “You don’t. Roses are a romantic thing.”

“But how do I show my appreciation then? How do I tell you guys that I love you?” Jack asked, an upset edge in his voice. As if telling them he loved them was the most important thing in the world. As if Jack actually meant it. Hell he was three years old, he probably didn’t know what he was even talking about. Still, it made Dean smile, seeing the kid so desperate to show them his appreciation.

“I don’t know. Cook us dinner on Father’s Day.” Dean suggested, because they technically were Jack’s fathers, in some way, and food was always good. As long as Jack didn’t accidentally blow up the kitchen.

“I’ll do that! I’m going to ask Claire what’s usually done for Father’s Day.” Jack’s face had lit up again, and he happily continued eating his cereals. Dean nodded, told Jack about his plans with Cas and left the kid to it. It only came to him that letting Jack ask Claire about Father’s Day was maybe not the best idea when he was already opening the door to the storage room. He’d tell Jack later. It was unlikely that he’d get to talk to Claire right now anyway.

At first, Cas was nowhere to be seen, but he was definitely here. Dean could hear something rumbling at the back of the room and the floor was cluttered with boxes upon boxes, that usually resided on the now mostly empty shelves.

“What the hell happened here? Cas?” Dean asked, mostly just confused about the state of the storage room. Cas wasn’t usually this… chaotic. Something fell off of one of the shelves at the back of the room and landed on the floor with a clank. Cas’ head poked up from the chaos.

“Hello Dean.” Cas heaved himself up into a standing position from where he was crouching down earlier, then he took in the box littered floor and Dean’s confusion. “I was looking for something.”

“Yeah, I can see that. What’s so important that you had to make the room look like a bomb hit it?”

“Here.” Cas moved closer, handing Dean a piece of paper. Upon inspecting it, he noticed that someone had spilled coffee over it, washing away the ink, only leaving pieces of sentences and words to be recognisable.

**_… disappeared… Arthur tried every… didn’t come back the same… dangerous… point North… where they needed… tomorrow, West… proceed with caution, do not interact without…_ **

The only useful part was a drawing on the top that had escaped the destruction brought on by the spillage. It depicted what looked like a compass, simple enough, but it didn’t have a needle. Dean raised his eyebrows, staring at Cas, and before he could even ask what this all meant, Cas elaborated. “I found this in the archives earlier, and I thought I should find the compass, even if I don’t know if it’s here, to avoid any of us finding it accidentally and _this_ happening.”

He pointed at the **_didn’t come back the same_** , an urgency in his voice. Dean got it. They’d gone through a lot of shit, they didn’t need any more problems. And although he still couldn’t really believe that they had it, they deserved some peace for once, so of course Cas would try to eliminate any possible threats to their safety. Dean would have done the same if he had found the piece of paper, especially now that Sam was working on making the bunker accessible for the hunter community as a research hub and sort of home base and just about anyone could walk into the storage room and find it. But Dean also still had the two beers in his hand and wanted to watch a movie with Cas.

“Come, on. Take a break, watch a movie with me, there has to be something I haven’t made you watch yet. You can still look for the compass later, no one’s gonna come in here, not today.” Dean raised his hand with the beer bottles, trying to get Cas to take one. Instead of obliging, Cas frowned, turning back to one of the shelves that he hadn’t rid of its boxes yet, starting to rummage through one. “I don’t understand why you keep insisting on me watching movies with you, you know I have all knowledge of pop culture stored in my head.”

Dean rolled his eyes. It wasn’t the first time Cas had tried that argument, and it wasn’t the first time Dean answered in the exact same words. “Not the same, dude. You have to actually experience it, just having the knowledge doesn’t count.”

Dean knew he was winning the argument, because he was always winning it. And Cas only pretended not wanting to watch movies with Dean, he knew the angel secretly loved it. But still, for some reason, Dean felt the need to add something. And he didn’t know what _possessed_ him to say those words, if it was _the thought_ and his subconscious being a bitch, or if it was the day having a weird effect on him. “And you know, you can either spend all of tonight looking for some obscure object that you’re not even sure is here in the first place, or you can spend Valentine’s Day with me.”

Cas turned around very quickly at that, not being careful about his hands knocking over the box he had been inspecting, sending something round and red flying towards the ground. Multiple things happened at the same time then, both Cas and Dean reaching for the object, Dean’s hand releasing the beer bottles and a high pitched ringing filling the air. It was interrupted by the crash of broken glass and beer splashing everywhere.

A red compass, the needle pointing East, rested on the floor in the storage room. There was no one there to pick it up.

__________

Their date had been going great until Jack flew in and interrupted it. Now they were on their way back to the bunker, because apparently Castiel and Dean had managed to _disappear_. Not that Eileen was surprised. There was always _something_ going on when it came to the Winchesters. Of course at first, Eileen had thought that Dean and Cas had just finally figured out why they always looked at each other like reuniting long lost lovers, and that they’d just left the bunker to have some privacy without telling anyone, but there had been something so _desperate_ and _insistent_ about Jack when he’d shown up that Eileen didn’t even mind abandoning their date. She and Sam could always have other dates, could always spend future Valentine’s Days together, because Eileen was sure her relationship with Sam was strong enough to survive until the next year. Of course they were also both hunters, so the future was never a thing of certainty, but Eileen was optimistic. She’d died once already, she didn’t plan on doing it again anytime soon. And right now, she wasn’t the one in trouble. Neither was Sam. But Dean and Cas needed their help, so help they were going to get.

Sam had only just parked the car when Jack already rushed them downstairs to the storage room, where Claire and Kaia were waiting, standing outside the doorway. None of them actually went in. When Eileen got a look at the room, peering in behind Sam, all she could see was chaos. The storage room looked as if a hurricane had blown through it, but that wasn’t what her eyes fell onto. No, it was the red compass lying in a puddle of beer and surrounded by broken glass that caught her attention. There was something about it, something powerful, not dangerous but _unsettling_ , and Eileen understood why none of them had entered the room yet. She didn’t want to be anywhere _near_ that thing. Whatever it was, it meant trouble, and Eileen was positive that Dean and Cas were in said trouble right now.

Claire gestured to her, to make it clear that she was going to talk, giving Eileen the chance to face her and read her lips. “We didn’t enter the room, just made sure that nothing was happening. We don’t know what that compass thing is, but I don’t trust it.”

Sam nodded along. “So you’re saying there was just a ringing noise going through the bunker and when you checked on Dean and Cas, they were gone?” Sam asked positioning himself across from Eileen, and Claire nodded. “Yes, the ringing and… I don’t know how to describe it, somehow we just _knew_ that something happened.”

Both Kaia and Jack were inspecting the compass curiously from their positions at the doorway, and while Jack’s eyes were just filled with its usual childish curiosity, Kaia seemed nervous, if not fearful of the small object. Sam had told her what had happened to the girl, about the other dimension, and Eileen got it. She was afraid that the compass somehow could open new portals, even though the other dimensions were all destroyed. Claire seemed to notice Kaia’s apprehension as well, moving her arms protectively over the other girl’s shoulders. She exchanged some words with Sam, but Eileen wasn’t paying attention. She kept an eye on Jack, who looked as if he was only seconds from storming into the room.

When Sam got Eileen’s attention again, she saw that Claire and Kaia had moved further down the hallway, away from the storage room and the compass. “They’re going to see if there’s something about the compass in the library.” Sam explained while trying to sign. He was in no way fluent yet, but he was getting there. It still made Eileen feel all warm inside.

“What do you think it is?” Eileen asked, still with one eye on Jack, as Sam shook his head. “No idea. Guess we’ll have to hit the books. I’ve never seen that compass before, we should have- Jack, what are you doing?”

In the one second that Eileen had looked only at Sam, Jack had moved into the storage room and was crouching in front of the compass, not touching it, but looking at it intently. But then, _then_ , Jack did the one thing he wasn’t supposed to. His hand reached out, nearer and nearer to the compass. And both Sam and Eileen rushed in, screaming at the kid not to, but he wasn’t listening. He grabbed the compass, picking it up and staring at it. Both Sam and Eileen stopped in their tracks, waiting for something bad to happen, but when everything stayed exactly the same, they both relaxed visibly, releasing their breaths.

“Why is the needle stuck on East? That’s not how compasses work.” Jack remarked, turning the compass around and around, frowning. Eileen could see that the needle was indeed stuck on East. She was sure it meant something. Before she could comment on it though, Jack touched the needle and both he and Sam tensed, the horror written upon their faces, as the world went black. Eileen’s last thought was that they probably heard a ringing sound.

__________

When Dean woke up, he knew that something was wrong immediately. This wasn’t his bed. His bed was much more comfortable. It also wasn’t a motel bed. Those beds weren’t comfortable enough. The other thing that was definitely wrong was that he felt a presence behind him. And then when he reached to the bedside table, something was definitely wrong, because his gun was nowhere to be seen. This wasn’t his bedside table, this wasn’t his bed, this surely wasn’t his room. He was almost afraid to turn around and face whoever, _whatever_ , it was that was lying on the bed with him. He refused to die because a damn compass sent him into some monster’s bed. However, when he finally dared to look, he relaxed as soon as his gaze fell on Cas. It was only _Cas_. Cas. _Sleeping_. Cas didn’t sleep. The last of the tiredness left Dean as he noticed that Cas wasn’t wearing his trench coat. He wasn’t wearing his usual clothes either. Oh, something was _so wrong._ Cas looked as if he’d just jumped out of the 1920s. But the feeling got so much worse when Dean looked down at himself and flinched so hard that it jolted the bed and woke Cas up with a start.

The first look Cas gave Dean was _a lot._ Worry and mistrust and fear and anger and relief and confusion all mixed together. But Cas must have seen _something_ on Dean’s face, in his eyes, something that told him that this was still _Dean_ , despite the clothes. The clothes that looked so much like the ones he wore when he didn’t have any control over his body. The clothes _Michael_ wore. Dean didn’t know why this freaked him out so badly. It was just _clothes_. But Cas looked at him, his eyes soft now, and there wasn’t any pity, but something else, something comforting. And suddenly it was okay. (It wasn’t really, but he could focus on Cas’ beautiful blue eyes, and that helped) (ignore _the thought_ , ignore it).

Cas lifted his hand, touching Dean’s shoulder gently. “Are you okay?”

Dean nodded. “Yeah, yeah sure.”

Cas’ hand grounded him, kept his thoughts from spiralling too much, kept the memories at bay, the memories of a time he was trapped in his own mind. Which made him look through the room they were currently in. Which made him realise that they had an actual problem. _Where were they? What had that damn compass done?_

“Cas, what the hell happened?” Dean asked, slowly getting off the bed and inspecting the room. It was a bedroom, judging by the bed, accompanied by a small desk, a dark wooden wardrobe and a fancy looking sofa that could never be comfortable. Dean didn’t try it out. The walls were laid out with some weird cream coloured floral patterned wallpaper, and under different circumstances, the room would have been warm and safe and comfortable, but Dean wanted to get out of here _now._ He tried to look, but there was no sign of the compass anywhere.

“I have no idea. This isn’t very helpful.” Cas answered, still positioned on the bed, going over the piece of paper with the little information on the compass they had, trying to make some sense of the fragmented sentences. Dean didn’t have the patience for that. They wouldn’t find anything on that damn piece of paper. Not without having the actual compass. Which they _didn’t._

“What did the compass do anyway? Give us a makeover and send us to the past?” Dean asked, now inspecting the two doors in the room. The first one he opened led to a bathroom.

“It’s still February 14th, but we’re in 1922.” Cas answered, giving up on trying to figure out what exactly the compass had done to them.

“That never happened before, the clothes thing.” Dean remarked, trying not to look down at his current attire. He’d travelled to the past multiple times, and he’d never just worn the right clothes. He stepped up to the other door, readying to open it. He hated that he didn’t have a gun, or any other kind of weapon. He felt unprepared, going into an unknown situation unarmed. His eyes quickly swept the room, and landed on a letter opener on the desk. It wasn’t ideal, but it was something. And it looked silver, so there was that.

“I don’t have my angel blade.” Cas was frowning, patting over his new clothes. He actually looked good in them, the colour of his suit turning his eyes even more intense than they already were. And his hair, combed back neatly, in a way that made Cas look handsome in another way than was usual. For a moment Dean just stared (he seemed to be doing that a lot lately), but then he got ahold of himself. And before he opened the door, he had an idea.

“Wait, Cas, can’t you just send us back?” Cas’ frown deepened. “I would, but there’s something blocking me. It seems the compass really wants us here.”

“What the hell does _that_ mean?” Dean’s eyes widened, his voice confused, as he looked at Cas quizzically. Cas just sighed, stepping up to Dean, halting right next to the door. “The compass didn’t send us here by accident. It felt intentional.”

“Oh, so now compasses have intentions. Great. Why am I even surprised?” Dean remarked, sarcastically, and Cas looked at him with an expression that said very clearly _not helpful, Dean_.

“Anyway, wanna check out why the compass sent us here?” Dean asked, not really taking this whole compass thing seriously, because come on, it was a compass, and sure he’d encountered his fair share of weird shit, but how had a compass they hadn’t even touched, just inconveniently knocked off a shelf, sent them to 1922 _with intentions._

Dean’s hand was still resting on the doorknob, only waiting for Cas to give him the go ahead. It didn’t take long, Cas just steeled himself and nodded, and so Dean opened the door carefully. The hallway looked similar to the room, the floral wallpaper interrupted by the occasional painting or door, probably leading to other rooms, and music drifted in the air, carrying chatter and laughter with it. Didn’t sound too threatening, but you never knew. The hallway itself was empty, so Dean stepped out of the room, armed with nothing but a letter opener and an angel. Cas had his grace, hopefully they wouldn’t encounter anything that required more than that.

They crept through the corridor, carefully, following the music, not meeting a soul until the hallway opened up to a sort of balcony, overlooking what Dean could only describe as a dance hall. It was like in one of those clubs he’d seen in movies, the ones where there were jazz bands playing and champagne flowing and girls in flapper dresses and men in fancy suits. Only that it wasn’t exactly the way it was in the movies. There was a jazz band. There was lots of champagne. There were people dancing. There were flapper dresses and fancy suits, but generally, people were dressed all kinds of manners, and no one really seemed to care. Not even about the _women_ dressed in _suits._ Not that Dean minded, women could wear whatever they wanted, it was just that there were _women_ wearing _suits_ in _1922_. And there were men dancing with men and women dancing with women and men _making out_ with other men and women _making out_ with other women on the sidelines of the dance floor and Dean hadn’t even known that there were already _drag queens_ in 1922, but apparently there were. Well, this was one hell of a development.

“What exactly did the compass intend to do by sending us to a gay club in 1922?” Dean asked when he recovered from the temporary shock, looking over at Cas, who stared intently at the dance floor. “I have no idea.”

“Oh, you have no idea, well that’s great.”

“How am I supposed to know, Dean?” There was exasperation in Cas’ voice, that special kind that he only reserved for Dean. And yeah, Dean wasn’t being fair. There really wasn’t any way how Cas could know _why_ a compass that apparently had _intentions_ , had sent them here, but Dean was on edge. He was in a gay club. With _Cas_ of all people. On _Valentine’s Day._ In _1922_. This wasn’t good in any way possible.

“How do we get out of here?” Dean asked, more to himself than anyone else. A couple stumbled up the stairs, more drunk than anything, supporting each other without a care in the world. One of the men winked at Cas before they disappeared down the hallway. An acute sting of jealousy rushed through Dean’s heart. He ignored it. He had no right to be jealous, Cas wasn’t _his._ Would never be, probably. No matter how loud _the thought_ decided to be (and it was very loud right now). Cas didn’t even seem to notice.

“The door is right there.” He said instead, pointing right next to the bar, where one of the bartenders was chatting with a man that had the stature of a bodyguard, and was standing right in front of the door. There was probably a password or something to get let in. To keep this place safe.

“I don’t mean how do we get out of the club, I mean how do we get out of this whole situation?”

Cas didn’t even answer this time. He just kept staring at the dance floor.

“You want to dance or something?” Dean joked, and then he wanted to punch himself for that joke, because Cas finally looked back at him and there was something in those eyes that Dean hadn’t expected.

“Do _you_ want to?” Cas asked, so earnestly Dean knew he actually meant the question. Cas was asking Dean to dance with him. In a gay club. Why was Cas asking Dean to dance with him? For once, for a second, _the thought_ didn’t seem as out of the question as it usually did, but then Cas continued. “The compass must have sent us here for a reason, maybe there’s a threat in the crowd, we could keep an eye out while blending in.”

Of course. The compass and its _intentions_. Why else would Cas want to dance with him. He was standing there, waiting for an answer, and before Dean could think too much about it, he nodded. Cas nodded as well, and then they were standing there, awkwardly, and Dean hated it. When none of them made a move for multiple seconds, Dean decided to bite the bullet and started descending the stairs, hoping Cas would just follow him. He hid the letter opener in his sleeve on the way down.

At first glance, the dance floor was overwhelming. A second glance didn’t change much. It stayed overwhelming. Dean had _never_ been overwhelmed in a club. Maybe back when he was still a kid, but not now. He shouldn’t get _overwhelmed_ by this.

“Dean?” Cas was right beside him. “Are you sure about this?”

“Yes, why shouldn’t I be?” Dean managed to say, but it was a lie and he knew that Cas could tell. He tried to convince himself this wasn’t a big deal. He could dance with his best friend without having _the thought_ interpret too much into it. It was for a purpose after all. But _the thought_ wasn’t the only thing stuck in his head anymore. There were voices, telling him not to, telling him that what he was about to do was wrong. Voices that sounded too much like his dad. But he shook out of it. He could dance with his best friend, who was a man (or at least looked like one, Dean wasn’t sure angels had gender), and everything would be fine. No one would judge him. Not _here_. Not in a damn gay club. The only thing he could get judged for were his dancing skills. So he breathed in deeply and looked back at Cas. “Just don’t let me do anything stupid.”

Cas started smiling, a glint in his eyes. “Of course.”

Cas was leading, and Dean didn’t mind. Interestingly enough, Cas also seemed to know what he was supposed to do, contrary to Dean, who’d never danced like this. It was surprising, unexpected.

“Didn’t know you could dance?” Dean asked more than remarked, and Cas’ smile deepened. “I watched humans long enough.”

The dance floor welcomed them, people moving to make space, as Cas and Dean danced their way through the crowd. Dean was mostly concentrating on scanning the room for anything unusual, decidedly _not_ thinking about his hand in Cas’ or Cas’ arm around his back, or the fact that he was stumbling over his own feet, because he was so damn _nervous_ about this, he wouldn’t even be able to walk straight, let alone dance. With Cas. He was dancing with Cas. This shouldn’t be such a big deal, but it was. And after a few rounds, Dean just decided to relax, and for once, he actually did.

This was good, actually. This was an opportunity. This was a way to be with the person he loved. The person he loved who could never love him back. Because he was an _angel_ , and angels didn’t work the same way humans did. It wasn’t even Cas’ fault. It was shit, but it just was. They couldn’t change it. And so Dean just enjoyed it, as good as he could while still being vigilant. He enjoyed being near Cas, practically being in his arms, having the people around them _think_ that they were together, _think_ that they were in love. And so for a moment, it was actually true. And Dean stopped looking around and started focusing on Cas. And Cas did the same. And song was playing after song, and suddenly they were just dancing for the hell of it, because it was _fun_ , all thoughts of being stuck in the past or a threat hiding in the crowd forgotten. Just the two of them in the middle of the dance floor. And so Dean accidentally let _the thought_ take over.

And before he could even think about it, Dean was kissing Cas. And at first nothing happened. At first it was just a press of lips, both unmoving, stuck in a fraction of a second that seemed to take forever. But then Cas kissed _back_ , and at first Dean couldn’t believe it and his mind was racing and it was like he was melting into the kiss, and then suddenly, he _could_ believe it, and suddenly, whatever spell they had been under was broken and reality crashed back down on him. _What was he doing?_

He drew back, breathing too heavily, staring at Cas who was frowning now. Of course he was frowning. _Of course._ How could he not, his best friend had just _kissed_ him without reason or warning.

“Damn it Cas, I told you not to let me do anything stupid.” Dean’s voice was shaking more than he wanted to admit, but he was feeling like shit right now. He had potentially just ruined everything.

Cas looked like he wanted to say something, but he was hesitating, just staring at Dean, and when he actually opened his mouth, he was interrupted by a crash coming from the bar.

__________

Eileen didn’t expect the first thing she saw when she entered the hallway to be a vampire sucking the life out of some poor soul. She cursed inwardly that she didn’t have a weapon. Usually she carried one with her at all times (not a machete though, but any weapon would have been fine, really, even if they couldn’t _kill_ the vampire, they could still _stall_ it), but her fancy 1920s dinner suit hadn’t come with extra reinforcement. She was pretty sure that either Sam or Jack had made some sort of sound behind her, because the vampire suddenly looked in their direction, before dropping his victim and rushing along the hallway, away from them. Jack ran past Eileen, following the vampire, and Sam went to check on the victim, while Eileen had an idea. She returned to the bedroom they had woken up in, taking a fire poker from the fireplace. She couldn’t exactly cut off the vampire’s head with it, but she could hurt him at least. Then she rushed behind Jack, who she was sure could handle himself, but she didn’t want the kid to have to handle this on his own.

When she caught up to the nephilim, he was standing alone on a balcony, looking down at a crowd that looked more spooked than anything else. “I just wanted to stop him from running, I didn’t mean to throw him across the whole room.” Jack explained, his facial expression apologetic, pointing to the bar on the other side of the dance floor, the surface of it covered by glass shards, a distraught bartender looking at something hidden behind the bar Eileen couldn’t see. She guessed it was the vampire, and her guess was confirmed when a head poked up.

“Come on.” Eileen said before rushing down the stairs. A quick glance back told her that Jack was right behind her, and Sam was currently catching up.

The vampire was hopping across the bar and started running, while the dance floor merged into absolute chaos. Luckily, the vampire was running _away_ from the crowd. If he had been smarter, he’d have hidden behind the tumult, but apparently he wasn’t. When Eileen arrived at the bottom of the staircase, the vampire had however reached a door and was slipping through it. She ran as fast as she could, trying her best to catch up. She was grateful that she’d woken up in a suit and not a flapper dress.

Eileen wasn’t the first person to reach the door. Dean beat her to it. She didn’t have the time to be surprised to see him, and to be honest, she was expecting him to be here as well. She had no idea how the compass worked, but she was glad it hadn’t scattered all of them across time. That would have been inconvenient.

Dean held the door open for her, letting her through first, and then nodded at someone behind Eileen, probably Jack, and then the three of them were through the door and landed in a kitchen. The vampire was making its way to the back door, and while Dean kept running, he grabbed a giant knife from one of the tables. Eileen reached the vampire first, thrusting the fire poker through his chest, which didn’t do much, but it surprised him and made him halt, which gave Dean enough time to swing at his neck. Unfortunately, the knife wasn’t sharp enough to sever the head in one go, and so Dean had to hack at it a few times before the head finally rolled to the kitchen floor. Sam and Cas had barged into the room at just the right time to see Dean decapitate the vampire.

“Well, that was easy.” Dean turned to Cas. “You think this was the compass’ _intention_?” He asked, scrunching up his face in a way that Eileen could tell the word intention was said sarcastically. She wasn’t exactly sure what Dean meant, and when she looked back at Cas, he only rolled his eyes, shook his head and didn’t answer. There was something going on, but Eileen couldn’t decipher what, just that both Dean and Cas were uncharacteristically tense.

“Anyway, how did you all get here?” Dean asked, and Jack who’d been looking at the decapitated vampire curiously shifted his attention to Dean. “We touched the compass needle.”

“ _Jack_ touched the compass needle.” Sam added, looking at the kid as if he was about to reprimand him. Eileen, deciding that they didn’t have any time for this, because while the kitchen was empty _now_ , someone could come in any time and see a beheaded body and both Eileen and Dean’s suits splattered with blood, so she pulled out the compass from where she had stored it in her pocket. “We should figure out how to get back to our time.”

“You have the compass.” Cas observed, relief in his voice. It didn’t ease any of the tension in his shoulders, but he did look more reassured than only seconds ago. Dean looked at the compass and frowned. “Why does it have a needle? It didn’t have a needle on the drawing.”

Cas then pulled out a folded piece of paper from his pocket, looking at it intently with Jack and Sam. When Eileen reached out for it, Cas handed it over.

“Maybe that’s a clue. Maybe we have to do something with the needle to get back. It would make sense, considering we’re only here because Jack touched it.” Sam concluded. Dean, without waiting for anyone to tell him not to or giving Eileen the chance to get the compass out of reach, did exactly that. He touched the needle, still stuck on East, and nothing happened. He looked disappointed, while Cas and Sam looked at him as if they were about to reprimand _him_ now.

“What?” Dean asked, his facial expression annoyed, directed at Sam only, as if he was avoiding Cas. “ _You_ said it had something to do with the needle.”

“I didn’t say you should _touch it_! You could have sent us someplace else, someplace _worse_!”

“Can’t be worse than a damn gay club in 1922?”

“We’re in a gay club?” Sam asked, at the same time as Eileen raised the currently more important question. “We’re in 1922?”

“Yes, we are in a gay club. Yes, it’s 1922. Now, can we please focus on getting back to our own time?” Cas insisted and Eileen could _see_ that Cas wanted nothing more than get out of here. She was sure something had gone down between Dean and Cas, they were both on edge. _Especially_ because before Eileen, Sam and Jack had shown up, the two of them had spend time at a gay club _alone_.

Eileen saw the others starting to bicker, but she wasn’t paying attention anymore. She was staring at the needle stuck at East. Then she was staring back at the fragmented sentences on the paper. **_Tomorrow, West_**. **_Point North_**.

“The sun rises in the East.” She said after a few minutes, figuring it out. “We need to point the needle North.”

Everyone turned back towards her, just staring. They didn’t get it. Eileen sighed. “East, South, West. Past, present, future. We’re stuck in the past, so the needle is stuck on East.”

“And North stands for home. Because of that saying to follow the Northern Star.” Sam finished her thought and smiled. Dean didn’t seem to agree. “Shouldn’t we point the needle South then? Considering that’s the present.”

“No.” Jack interjected. “The paper said point North.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “The paper doesn’t say anything, it’s just random words.”

“What else would North be then, Dean?” Cas argued, and Eileen decided to ignore them again. Dean’s and Cas’ weird moods wouldn’t get them anywhere, and she wasn’t about to jump in and try to mediate, like Sam was trying to.

They hadn’t actually tried to manually move the needle yet, so that was what Eileen did. She touched the needle, half expecting that something would happen, and when nothing did, she tried to push it up to North. To her surprise, the needle actually moved up, very easily at that. She sucked in a breath, steeled herself and instinctively closed her eyes when the needle hit North.

___________

This time, Dean woke up in his own bed. He noticed that immediately. However, he also knew what he would see when he opened his eyes. And so he just kept them closed, waiting it out, deciding what the best course of action was. He could just lay here, waiting for Cas to wake up and leave. He could just avoid talking about what happened in 1922 and maybe they would just go back to being best friends. That would be ideal.

In the end, Dean was impatient, and even though he’d told himself not to, he opened his eyes. He was expecting Cas to still be asleep, like the first time they’d woken up like that, but he wasn’t. He’d been watching Dean sleep. Like he always did. And Dean didn’t mind. He never did.

At first, they were just lying there, both quiet, looking into each other’s eyes. Dean didn’t know what to think. He wasn’t sure how Cas was feeling about this. If he was angry, confused, disappointed, hell maybe he was _disgusted._ “Look, Cas, I didn’t – ”

“I love you.” With only three words, Cas shocked Dean into silence. _What did that mean_? How? That wasn’t… that wasn’t possible. Cas was an _angel_. Angels didn’t work like humans. It couldn’t be _possible_. But Cas had said it. Had said those three words. And Dean wasn’t even sure if Cas had meant it _like that_. Or if he was just saying what he though Dean wanted to hear. But he wasn’t done.

“Dean. I’ve been in love with you for such a long time. And I always thought that you loving me back… that that was something I could never have. But then you kissed me. And maybe what I want is something I can have after all.”

Dean still didn’t know what to say. He knew what he wanted to say. Wanted to say _I love you too_ , but it was stuck in his throat. Didn’t get out. Because this couldn’t really be happening. Couldn’t be real. He was still dreaming. He would wake up any minute now. But if this was a dream, it didn’t matter what he was doing. So without thinking too much about it, he moved forward and kissed Cas again. And it was so much better than the first time, because _I love you_ was spiralling in Dean’s head, and for once, he let himself think it without feeling bad about it.

And they were kissing, and their worries were melting away, and maybe this wasn’t a dream after all, and Dean’s hand came up to cradle Cas’ face, Cas hugged him closer, and Dean just wished this moment would never end.

But it had to end, because Dean needed to say something. So he drew back, noting the disappointed look in Cas’ eyes, but he had to, and he knew the disappointment would disappear with his words anyway. “Cas… I love you too. Of course I love you.”

And then Cas smiled, and Dean knew for sure that this wasn’t a dream, because he had never felt so good and happy in a dream, and when he wanted to keep kissing Cas, a knock on his door interrupted them. “Dean are you there?”

Sam. Of course. Because they’d just come back from the past. Of course Sam would check on them.

“We’re here!” Dean answered, sighing, before detaching himself from Cas reluctantly and moving to leave the room to check if all of the others had made it back safely. Cas moved with him, and when Dean opened the door, his hand was holding Cas’, their fingers intertwined. And Dean found that he was fine with that. That he liked it even. That now that he knew that Cas loved him and that it was okay that Dean loved him back, he wanted to be even closer to him.

Sam saw their hands, but didn’t comment on it. “You both good?”

“Yeah man, all fine.”

Sam nodded, and somehow they all found their way to the kitchen, and Eileen _smirked_ when she saw Dean and Cas together, and Jack congratulated them enthusiastically, and Claire rolled her eyes, but nonetheless smiled, before focusing back on Kaia. And they weren’t talking about it, or the compass, or the gay club, or 1922, they were just getting snacks and drinks and hung out together. And as they were all sitting in the kitchen, for hours, just drinking beer and telling stories, Dean sitting too close to Cas and for once knowing that he really belonged there, Valentine’s Day came to an end.

__________

Cas put the compass in a box, locked it, and put a post-it on top, warning people not to open it. Sam was going to set up a safe to store everything that was potentially dangerous, but until then, Cas didn’t want anyone else to get stuck _somewhere_. The compass wasn’t dangerous, but they didn’t know too much about it. They’d managed to get home purely because Eileen was a quick thinker and they’d been lucky. And Cas was still thinking, still wondering about the compasses intentions. Because no matter how many times Dean would make fun of him for it, he was convinced that the compass had sent them to that club for a reason. Because he had felt it, had felt that they were exactly where they were meant to be. And it wasn’t because of the vampire. Cas was sure of that.

When he left the storage room, he found Dean in the kitchen, making lunch for all of them, listening to music. He looked happy. Cas smiled. Without the compass, they wouldn’t have kissed. Without the compass, they would still be pretending that they didn’t need to be more than best friends. And that made him pause.

Because the compass had sent them just where they needed to be.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so the ending (from Eileen’s second POV on) was supposed to be different. I had this whole elaborate idea with more vampires and an actual hunt (and more Saileen) and Dean’s last POV was supposed to be longer and way fluffier, but time and Uni are a thing, so I didn’t get to plan everything out properly. 
> 
> Anyway, I still hope you liked it!


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